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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039140">Made of Wood</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeslieTheSorceress/pseuds/LeslieTheSorceress'>LeslieTheSorceress</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Madagascar (Movies), Penguins of Madagascar</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Human, F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:21:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28039140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeslieTheSorceress/pseuds/LeslieTheSorceress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>As Skipper and Lola's wedding date nears, Private questions his role on Skipper's team. Coincidentally, so does Lola. Takes place shortly before the events of the Penguins movie.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Lola the Hula Girl Doll/Private, Lola the Hula Girl Doll/Skipper</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Made of Wood</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For those unfamiliar with the magical world of Madagascar lore, Lola is the name of the bobblehead doll that Skipper marries at the end of Madagascar 2.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, like, this may be a stupid question—”</p><p>“Ah bup bup! There are no stupid questions. Only stupid <em>people</em>.”</p><p>Lola is at the HQ again, because of course she is. The closer her and Skipper’s wedding date nears, the more frequently Private finds himself running into her applying her makeup in the bathroom, or diving into the team’s stash of Peanut Butter Winkies, or curling up in Skipper’s arms in front of a Shirtless Ninja Action Warriors marathon. Does Private dislike Lola’s company? Goodness, no. She’s a perfectly lovely girl. But does he enjoy her and Skipper bringing their PDA into the HQ?</p><p>Had Skipper asked, Private would have forced a grin and nodded.</p><p>“Okay,” Lola says. “This question may make me sound like a stupid <em>person</em>.”</p><p>“Uh-huh?”</p><p>She points at the telly. On the screen, a bombshell blonde is being dragged away by a monster with a bulbous head and a mess of crooked teeth. “What am I supposed to do if I get kidnapped?”</p><p>Skipper laughs. “I was wrong. That <em>is</em> a stupid question.”</p><p>Private looks up from the kitchen table. “Why’s it a stupid question?”</p><p>They turn to him from their spot on the sectional. Skipper’s brow crunches. “Because, <em>Private</em>, Miss Lola’s husband-to-be is one of the greatest private investigators in America, and he’s never going to <em>let</em> her get kidnapped. Now, what’s our rule about interrupting the lady?”</p><p>“Um, right. Sorry, sir--”</p><p>“No,” Lola interrupts. “Private knows what I mean.” Private blinks. He does? “Like, let’s say one of those arch-enemies you’re always talking about gets ahold of me. Am I completely helpless, or...?”</p><p>Private dares to perk. “Skippah? If I may--?”</p><p>“Alright, doll." Skipper shifts to face his fiancée. "Let’s indulge that little daydream of yours."</p><p>Skipper launches into an explanation about faking Stockholm syndrome and "getting into your captor's sick and twisted head." It isn't long-winded, that's more Kowalski's thing, but it's long enough so that Private has stopped listening by the time Skipper finishes. Lola hasn't, though, which isn't surprising. Skipper has had her wrapped around his finger since the day they met.</p><p>“Huh. I’ve never thought about it like that.” Lola turns to Private and offers a small smile. "Thanks, Pri.”</p><p><em>Now</em> Private's listening. “Um… Yeah! Y’know, anytime, Lola.” He knows that he shouldn’t be this stunned, but “thanks” isn’t a word that gets thrown around the HQ very often.</p><p>“Yes, well done, Private, but I don’t think that the lady will need to follow that advice any time soon. Sneak attack!" Skipper tackles Lola and pins her into a bear hug. She giggles uncontrollably. “I’m always gonna rescue you, my pretty little doll. Who’s your knight in shining armor, huh?”</p><p>Private makes sure that he’s hidden behind the refrigerator door before rolling his eyes. Rico would have gotten away with gagging in plain sight.</p><p>The phone rings. Skipper groans. “Pri-<em>vate</em>.”</p><p>“Right, sir.” Private answers it. It’s Commissioner McSlade, requesting that Skipper and his team meet him at the coroner’s office immediately.</p><p>“That pencil-pushing nutjob can’t leave me alone for two seconds.” Skipper stands. “Tell ‘em I’m on my way.”</p><p>Lola makes an uneasy noise inclined to a chuckle. “Um, how can you be on your way? We’re hanging out.”</p><p>“Duty calls when duty calls, doll. Private! Dial Kowalski and Rico and tell ‘em to meet me at the coroner’s office in five.”</p><p>“Aye-aye, Skippah!”</p><p>“Wait, so, that’s it?” Lola asks, face falling. “Movie night’s over?”</p><p>Skipper dons his jacket. “Far from it! This meeting with the commissioner shouldn’t last longer than a few minutes.” Something glimmers in his eye. “You think you can wait for me, doll?”</p><p>She thinks, then sighs, then nods.</p><p>“<em>There’s</em> the pretty girl I fell head over heels for.” He kisses her softly and makes for the door. “You’ll never even know I was gone, Lola! You’ll bat those baby browns, and I’ll be standin’ right in front of—whoa! Just where do you think <em>you’re</em> goin’, soldier?” </p><p>Private stands at attention. “To the coroner’s office, sir! If the commissioner has new intel on Dave, we might be able to--”</p><p>“And did I <em>tell</em> you that I wanted you at the coroner’s office?”</p><p>“Um… Well, I just assumed that--”</p><p>“You know what happens when you assume, Private.”</p><p>“You make an arse out of you and me, I know--”</p><p>“Hey, watch the language!”</p><p>“But--!”</p><p>“Private, I need someone to hold down home base while I’m out. And keep an eye on Miss Lola while you’re at it; make sure that little kidnapping idea of hers doesn’t come true.”</p><p>“But, Skippah, don’t you think I should be doin’ more to help the team? I mean, answerin’ the phone and babysittin’ Lola ‘s lovely and all, but I could do so much more! You know I can!” Private shrinks. “…Don’t you?”</p><p>Skipper softens in that way that almost makes you think that he’s proud of you. “I like the attitude, soldier. But this outing doesn’t require all four of us, and I’d like to have someone holding down the fort. You trust me?”</p><p>Private’s insides sag. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>Skipper ruffles Private’s hair before shutting the door behind him. It takes Private his entire walk back into the living room to fix it. Lola’s parked on the couch, buried in the shiny new phone that Skipper bought her.</p><p>“So… How are you, Lola?”</p><p>She doesn’t react.</p><p>“Um… Wouldja mind if I turn off the TV?”</p><p>Nothing.</p><p>“... Lovely weather we’re havin’?”</p><p>She doesn’t even flinch. Private sighs under his breath and walks away. In spite of how peppy and rambunctious he’s seen Lola get around Skipper, sometimes it’s difficult to get her to open her mouth. “It’s like talkin’ to a piece ‘a wood!” he’s heard Skipper groan on more than one occasion. What a beautiful, weird couple they make. A beautiful, weird couple with a twelve year age gap. “Trophy wife” is a term that’s been thrown around the HQ quite a bit recently—while Skipper isn’t listening, of course.</p><p>Private cracks the fridge. Hidden behind Kowalski’s stack of Petri dishes and Rico’s lineup of non-FDA approved energy drinks is the HQ’s candy stash. Private’s fingertips haven’t even brushed the packaging before he hears Skipper’s voice in his head:</p><p><em>“Well, gentlemen, I can’t say I’m not disappointed. You ran through my training course like a bunch of little girls! It would help if some of us—ahem, </em>Private<em>—laid off the Peanut Butter Winkies.”</em></p><p>He freezes. A humiliated lump bobs in his throat, choking him with his own salt. Before Skipper can say anything else, Private notices Lola stand up and grab her purse. His face creases. “Um, ‘ello? Where are you going?”</p><p>She angles a perfect brow at him. “Relax, <em>Skipper</em>. I’m gonna go grab a snow cone from the bodega.”</p><p>He doesn’t know how he feels about being called Skipper. It sits with him like an upset tummy. “Well, Skippah wants me to keep an eye on you, so…”</p><p>“Okay. Come with me.”</p><p>“And leave the HQ?”</p><p>“Yeah. We’ll run down the street, grab food and come back. It’ll take, like five minutes.”</p><p>“But I’m s’pposed to be watchin’ home base.”</p><p>“So?”</p><p>He’s scandalized. “<em>So</em>?"</p><p>“Just 'cause Skipper told you to do something doesn’t mean you have to do it.”</p><p>Private wrestles a snort back. “That’s kind of ironic, comin’ from you.”</p><p>Her brow crunches. “What do you mean?”</p><p>“<em>‘You think you can put our plans on hold and wait for me?’ ‘Oh! Of course I’ll wait for you, my big heroic knight in shining armor!’</em>”</p><p>“<em>Excuse</em> me?”</p><p>“You’re excused.”</p><p>“Okay, I don’t know what your problem is, but—”</p><p>“My <em>problem</em>? My <em>problem</em> is that everyone in this stupid place treats me like I’m a piece ‘a wood! ‘Oh, Private, we don’t need you at the coroner’s office!’ ‘Oh, Private, don’t interrupt Lola!’ ‘Oh, Private, you may as well just disappear off the face of the earth and never be seen again because<em> maybe then you’d finally make a decent contribution to the team</em>!’”</p><p>His voice rattles against the kitchen cabinets and shoots through the floorboards. He breathes hard and looks up. Lola’s staring at him like he just stepped out of his own body. “Oh…” He shrinks. “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, Lola, I didn’t mean--”</p><p>“Pri--”</p><p>“Please don’t tell Skippah I yelled at you--”</p><p>“<em>Private</em>.”</p><p>He shuts up. He prays that she doesn’t notice how badly his lip is quivering.</p><p>“You need to get out and get some air.”</p><p>“But--”</p><p>“Just for five minutes, please? For me?”</p><p>For her. Lola’s eyes are massive, pleading things, like a doll’s, and her features are round and gleamy. She’s pretty in a way that isn’t debatable, like a movie star, and Private’s always known it. <em>Everyone’s</em> always known it. But now he realizes that it’s different when she’s looking right at you, lips crumpled, eyes focused, staring like she can melt a hole in your skull and pull out the answer she wants. Private feels like he's seeing her for the very first time.</p><p>He swallows the lump in his throat and grabs his sneakers.</p><p>The bodega is packed. People spill down the stoop and into the hot street. Private and Lola stand in line and talk over the city buzz—jackhammers throbbing, horns honking, sirens blaring. She distracts him by asking about the latest Lunacorns episode and commenting on passersby, which Private appreciates more than she knows. Anything to get his mind off of Skipper. By the time they reach the counter, he doesn’t even feel guilty about ordering a large snow-cone. She winks at him and whips out Skipper’s credit card.</p><p>He never gets to be rebellious; not like this. It feels… good. Liberating. Is this what normal twenty-somethings got to feel like?</p><p>“Is this the first time we’ve ever hung out?” she asks. “Like, just us two?”</p><p>They’re sitting on the apartment stoop. Private’s taking polite licks of his rainbow snow-cone; Lola’s tearing into her pineapple one like it slapped her across the face. “Uh, I think so!” Private says. “It’s kind of silly, innit? That we’ve known each other for so long but we’ve barely held a conversation?”</p><p>“I was thinking about that the other day, actually!” Lola fingers a fat drop of syrup off of her chin. Her cowrie shell bracelets jingle against each other. “Like, I really wanna get to know you and the guys better before the wedding. I was planning it all out in my head: I was like, ‘okay, I’ll start with Private, because we’re the closest in age, and then I’ll move to Kowalski and help him with those girl problems that Skipper keeps telling me about, and then I’ll brush up on sign language and bond with Rico.’”</p><p>He’s almost disappointed to hear her stop talking. “Oh, so this whole leavin’ the HQ ordeal was just a part of your master plan? Alright, then.”</p><p>She laughs. “Uh, my master plan to make friends with you guys before I become a permanent part of your lives? Yes, it was, <em>Private</em>.”</p><p>“Hey, there you go! Keep plottin’ and schemin’ and soon you’ll be a secret agent, too.”</p><p>“Oh, my God, I could never. Like, all that crazy stuff you guys do? I don’t have it in me.” She pauses. “You’re eighteen, right?”</p><p>He frowns. “Twenty-one.”</p><p>“Really?”</p><p>“Yep--”</p><p>“You can <em>drink</em>?”</p><p>He feels himself pinken. “I mean, I don’t do it <em>often</em>, but, yes, I can.”</p><p>“Oh, my gosh, I’m sorry. So, how does a twenty-one-year-old end up becoming a private investigator? Like, Skipper and the guys are all nearing forty, and here you are, all happy and innocent and whatever... If you don’t mind me asking.”</p><p>“Oh, no, not at all!” It’s not often that he gets to ramble about himself. He’s more excited than he probably should be, and it buries the part of him that’s frustrated at once again being dubbed the innocent one. “My parents were MI6 agents. My Uncle Nigel took me in after they... uh, you know. Anyway, Nigel and Skippah are old mates from when they both worked for the CIA, so I grew up around Skippah and his brothers. I’m not related to them, not technically, but we’re just as close. They’ve been groomin’ me to be a part of their team ever since I was young, so… when I turned eighteen, I was ready to go!”</p><p>Her nose scrunches. “They <em>forced</em> you into it?”</p><p>“N-No! Gosh, no. All I’ve ever wanted was to be a part of the team. I’ve been followin’ Skippah around the HQ since I could waddle.”</p><p>“Wait, that’s so cute.”</p><p>Private notices the way her smile pushes her cheekbones into her eyes, and his belly flips. “Y’know, sometimes I get the feelin’ that Skippah still thinks all I can <em>do</em> is waddle.” He forces himself to chuckle, just in case she thinks he’s still upset.</p><p>Lola’s smile twitches. “Does Skipper always talk to you like that?”</p><p>“Like wot?”</p><p>“... Nevermind.”</p><p>“No, I wanna know wot you mean--”</p><p>“Forget it.”</p><p>“O-Okay…”</p><p>The silence between them tightens like a wire. Private fidgets awkwardly and pretends to be interested in his snow-cone. Cars honk. Pedestrians swear at one another. Somewhere down the street, somebody starts whistling. Something in Lola’s face shifts. She starts singing along, so quiet that only Private can hear.</p><p>“<em>At the Copa, Copacabana, the hottest spot north of Havana. At the Copa, Copacabana. Music and passion were always the fashion at the Co-pa...</em>” She looks down and plays with her bracelets. “<em>Don’t fall in love...</em>”</p><p>Private’s heard Lola sing before, on the Great White Way for crowds thousands-strong, but never this intimately. Never just for herself. Private can’t read her face, as per usual, but he can read her sound. Somehow, he understands it. It seems to come from his own chest.</p><p>“Skipper is… Skipper,” Lola says quietly. “There’s no other way to describe him. He’s larger than life, and he’s so set in his ways that it’s hard for him to step into someone else’s shoes. Sometimes, when I’m around him, I feel like I don’t even have a voice.” She gives a tiny, self-deprecating smile. “Like, can you imagine? Me, a Broadway actress, not having a voice?”</p><p>“But... just sometimes, though, right? Not all the time?”</p><p>And just like that, the moment shatters. Lola stiffens like she just woke up from a dream. “Oh, no, not all the time! Like, once in a blue moon. It’s probably not even worth mentioning, just... I dunno. When you yelled at me earlier, I thought you might’ve understood.”</p><p>His face falls.</p><p>He’s never heard Lola talk about anything this way before. Her voice is a warm rumble in the ribbing of her throat, and he feels a little tug in his gut whenever he meets her eye. He wants to relate to her. He wants to tell her that, yes, he completely understands what she’s talking about. For years, his requests for more responsibility within the team have been ignored. For years, Skipper has forced him to stay at home while his brothers tackled missions that made a difference in their community. For years, he has been missing a sense of purpose; a reassurance that his life is worth something. It feels like a gaping hole in his chest and it keeps him up well into the night.</p><p>But Private can’t admit that. Not to Skipper. And certainly not to Skipper’s fiancée.</p><p>“I’m sorry, Lola.”</p><p>She smiles sadly. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”</p><p>“I don’t like yellin’. Not like that. It isn’t who I am. I guess my feathers are a bit rumpled this afternoon. Give it a day or so, and I’ll be right as rain. You’ll see.”</p><p>Several bodega outings later, Skipper and Lola tie the knot at a simple outdoor venue. There are no parents to bless the marriage. Instead, there are Lola’s musical theatre friends and Skipper’s ex-CIA friends, who go around taking bets from each other. Rico says he’ll give the marriage a year; Lola’s agent Julien, who is a thousand times more rambunctious than she is, gives it five. Bidding wars begin, money is passed under the buffet table, cheeky comments are exchanged. Six months after the wedding, a disoriented and dark-circled Lola huffily collects her things from the HQ, leaving Skipper’s ex-partner Hans nine hundred dollars richer. When she slams the door on her way out, the entire building buckles. Private feels it in his gut.</p><p>Private doesn’t remember the details of Skipper’s divorce—by that point, he had long since stopped trying to keep up with his brother’s messy love life—but he remembers the sting of Lola’s absence. He remembers the empty hole in his tummy where their secret snow-cone outings fell. He remembers those sleepless nights spent clutching his phone, wanting so, so badly to dial her number, but too afraid that Skipper would punish him for it. When Skipper cut ties with someone, especially an ex, he expected his men to follow his lead.</p><p>Private didn’t understand. Why shouldn’t he be allowed to reach out to the person who made him smile when no one else was willing to? Why should he have to suffer because of Skipper’s mistakes?</p><p>That was the first time Private thought that about Skipper. It wasn’t the last.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Me? Overanalyzing a character who has three minutes of screentime and zero lines? It's more likely than you think. Anyway, I could go on and on about how similarly Skipper treats Lola in Madagascar 2 and Private in the Penguins movie, but instead, I wrote this one-shot. For those in search of more PoM content, my Tumblr is @shewasashowgirl.</p><p>I'll bear your firstborn in exchange for an honest comment.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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